


i will not ask you where you came from (we should just kiss like real people do)

by trvshmouths



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Fix-It, M/M, because i said fuck canon he deserves to live!!!!!!!, don't ask me how he just does, i just fixed the ending, well technically... eddie kaspbrak comes back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 01:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21066785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trvshmouths/pseuds/trvshmouths
Summary: Eddie wakes up in a sewer and he's fucking pissed.No, first, he's confused as hell. And his head hurts, and he thinks he's gonna throw up. It takes him a minute to realize where he is and remember what had happened and wait what the fuck, he died, why isn't he dead right now?Miracle resurrection aside, he's super pissed that he's alone in a sewer right now.





	i will not ask you where you came from (we should just kiss like real people do)

**Author's Note:**

> for everyone who yelled at me about the end of my last fic... here i am trying to redeem myself in all of your eyes. not a sequel to that one by any means tho. it follows canon events up until the very, very end. 
> 
> if any of this is inaccurate (which i already know it is), don't drag me okay. i'm trying to heal my own heart here. also i'm sure something similar has been done but i couldn't find anything for the life of me and i wanted to write it anyway. so here we are.
> 
> also wrote this in like, 24 hours which is faster than i have ever written anything in my whole life. i make no apologies for it.
> 
> title from hozier's 'like real people do'

Eddie wakes up in a sewer and he's fucking pissed.

No, first, he's confused as hell. And his head hurts, and he thinks he's gonna throw up. It takes him a minute to realize where he is and remember what had happened and _wait what the fuck, he died, why isn't he dead right now_?

Miracle resurrection aside, he's super pissed that he's alone in a sewer right now. The last thing he can remember is Richie kneeling in front of him, insisting he'd be okay even though they both knew better, holding his jacket against his wounds - His wounds. Eddie looks down. Richie's jacket is still held between his stomach and his arm. There's blood all over it all. His hands, the jacket, his shirt. He can feel it more than he can see it. He can smell it. His muscles are stiff and weak as he moves his arm away. The rip in his shirt is still there, the blood not even fully dried, but his wound - it's gone. Slowly, as if he has any other option, he runs his fingers over where he had been stabbed by that goddamn clown. Nothing but smooth skin. Not even a scar he can feel.

He's no less confused, and a lot scared, and he's furious that he was left alone in this goddamn house - but he's _alive_.

Somehow, Eddie Kaspbrak is alive.

He doesn't know how or why, but he is. Now he just has to find his way out of the rubble he's been buried under. God, he's not happy about this at all.

* * *

Finally, Richie only has one last thing to do before he can get the hell out of here. He's leaving Derry and never coming the fuck back. Nothing good has ever happened in this godforsaken town anyway.

Well.

He zips up the hoodie he's wearing that still smells like Eddie's cologne. Maybe_ one_ good thing came from Derry. But that good thing is gone now.

The hoodie he's wearing, that he stole from Eddie's second suitcase (and yes he stole more and no he feels no shame about it), is a little tight on him, but he still tries to pull the fabric impossibly closer.

He still has to go back to the Townhouse, get checked out, say his goodbyes to Mike, the only other loser who hasn't left yet. But he wanted to come to the kissing bridge first thing in the morning. He wants to do this alone, before the rest of the world is awake. No annoying teenagers mocking him with their young, lively love when he's just trying to keep a memory alive.

The R+E he had carved into the bridge when he was young is still there, thankfully untouched. It's faded a lot, but that's why he's here, to make sure it never fully disappears. To make sure him and Eddie exist together somewhere. Even if it's just their initials on a bridge in Derry fucking Maine. More than anything, Eddie deserves to have some sort of legacy. He's too magnificent of a human being to just be another life gone too soon. Richie wishes he could do something more. No, if he really had a wish, it'd be for Eddie to not need to be remembered, because he'd still be fucking alive. Richie clenches his jaw and tries to hold the sob down.

He's glad none of them seem to be forgetting, he wants to remember them and he wants to keep Eddie's memory, but fuck, it may hurt less to forget. Maybe he still will. Bev and Ben and Bill have been gone less than 24 hours, just because they've kept in contact in that short time, it may not mean shit. He doesn't know. He'll find out, he guesses. Maybe it doesn't even matter.

He smiles as he finishes carving, because if he doesn't smile he'll cry again and he's pretty sure he's all cried out. When he stands back to his feet, he can see a blurry figure out of the corner of his eye. Great, just what he didn't want. At least he's done now. He tucks his hands into his pockets and stands up, admiring his work for just another second.

Fuck. He knows it's crazy, to still be so in love and to miss someone so much who he only had back in his life for a matter of days, but he's never felt this kind of desperate ache before. He's thinks he'll feel it forever.

"Richie..."

It's not his name coming from the blurry figure that makes Richie gasp as he jerks around - it's the voice attached to the figure.

And oh.

Oh goddammit. Now he can add seeing hallucinations to the list of issues he's got. Because standing right there at the end of the bridge, is Eddie Kaspbrak.

"Oh my god, Richie," Imaginary Eddie says. "I'm so glad to see you, man."

Richie's gotta give it to his brain, it's a really realistic hallucination. His voice is hoarse, he sounds really rough. And he's disgusting looking, covered in dried blood and dirt and other shit - probably literally. Still clutching Richie's jacket in his grasp, too. Richie breathes in and - oh, god, he can even smell the sewer on him.

He takes a step backward. "God, I'm losing it," he mumbles to himself, because he may be seeing Eddie, but he isn't going to talk to him. He's not that crazy yet. He squeezes his eyes shut. "You aren't real."

"Excuse me?" Imaginary Eddie sounds a little offended, and Richie would laugh if he wasn't shaking and about to cry for the dozenth time. He covers his ears, too. He can make him go away. When he feels two hands suddenly grip his forearms and yank his hands from his ears, his eyes open wide.

_Oh god what the fuck is happening._

He jumps back so quickly that he falls, tripping over his own feet and landing flat on his ass. The white hoodie is covered in dirty handprints and no matter how much he rubs at them, they're not fully going away. The dirt transfers to his fingers and he can feel it and smell it and it is very much real. But that makes no sense at all. He stares up at Eddie, who looks just as shaken up as Richie feels.

"Are you-" Richie starts. His voice shakes and cracks. "Are you a ghost? Am I really losing my marbles, man? I don't know what - I - I think I'm gonna throw up -"

"Please don't throw up," Imaginary (Not Imaginary? Ghost?) Eddie begs. "I've been crawling through a sewer for hours, Rich, please just get up."

Richie does. He stands up. Whatever Imaginary Ghost Eddie wants. "What's happening?" he whispers.

"Fuck if I know!" Imaginary Ghost Eddie yells. "I thought I was dead!"

Richie nearly falls over again. _Thought_ he was dead. Meaning... He's not. Eddie's not dead, which means this isn't a ghost or his mind fucking with him.

It's Eddie.

"Eddie..." Richie gasps at the realization and immediately pulls him into his arms.

Fuck, he smells like literal shit but he doesn't dream of pulling away yet. Or ever. In case this is still his head fucking with him, he's going to take full advantage of this moment before Eddie fades away again. He's not letting go for fucking anything. He squeezes him hard, holding him as close as physically possible.

"You're hurting me," Eddie mutters into his shoulder, but Richie feels his hands digging into his hoodie, holding on just as tight, so he doesn't budge.

For someone who just went through some traumatic shit of his own, coming back from the dead and crawling through god knows what in the dark praying he can even find his way out, Eddie does a great job of comforting Richie as he sobs hysterically into his shoulder.

He even waits for Richie to calm, until he's only sniffling a little, before he asks, "Do we still have our rooms at the townhouse? I need a shower." 

* * *

Richie sits on the bed as Eddie showers, just staring at the bathroom door. It's definitely a little creepy, but give the circumstances, he thinks he can be given some leeway. He's really still not convinced this is real. Nothing would surprise him truly, after the shit he's seen. 

That's the only reason he hasn't texted any of the others yet. Because if he tells them that Eddie is alive and then they show up and it turns out it is just a ghost or something only he can see - he'll be really embarrassed. They're already worried about him, he kind of had multiple breakdowns that day after leaving Neibolt, he doesn't want to make it worse. 

He'll message them once he's sure.

Eddie emerges from the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, and on any other day, Richie's sure he'd be on a roller coaster of repressed feelings and attraction, but in this moment all he can do is stare at the lack of a gaping hole in his stomach. His heart races a little at the memory of Eddie above him, his blood all over Richie's face, that claw going right through him. He wants to grab him again but he settles for digging his fingers into the edge of the mattress and just watching him instead. 

"Should I take you to a hospital or something?" he asks when Eddie winces a little when lifting his suitcase. 

"Probably," Eddie nods. "I'm sure I caught something being down there so long."

"No, I mean, you got - " He swallows. "You got impaled, Eds." 

Eddie turns and gestures to his stomach. "They would think you're crazy if you told them I got impaled. And I don't like that word." 

"It's the correct one," Richie mutters. "Maybe I am crazy though... Seeing dead guys and shit..." 

"Would you stop implying I'm a ghost?" Eddie sounds offended again and this time, Richie does smile a little. "If I was a fucking ghost, I'd have just teleported up through the ground instead of digging my way out of rubble and walking through a fucking sewer! I wish I was a ghost! I'd just poof around!" 

Eddie had caught him up, as much as he could, in the car ride over about what had happened when he woke up. It'd been a lot more than just a few hours that he was down there. Neither of them know how long he was dead for, but they can both agree that he was in fact dead. (Which is why Richie is kinda leaning towards the ghost theory. Which in his opinion is better than the hallucination one. He wants Eddie to have his own free will and mind of his own and stuff, not be controlled by Richie's subconscious.) 

They can't figure out the_ how _though. Richie knows it must have to do with IT being dead now, and probably lines up with their scars being healed - Eddie's is, too, Richie checked in the car - but he can't make full sense of it all. 

"Are you going to watch me get dressed?" Eddie asks, one hand on the waist of his towel and the other clutching a shirt.

"Do you mind?" 

He doesn't mean to ask it in such a genuine tone, but he kind of is serious, and it just comes out very sad. 

Eddie frowns and twirls a finger, gesturing for Richie to turn away. He starts to, but hesitates. 

"You can't _poof _away," Richie tells him. 

Eddie pauses, like he's trying to figure out how serious Richie is being, then sighs. "I'll keep talking," he tells him, so Richie turns his back to Eddie. As soon as he can't see him anymore, his voice is back. "Just in case you think I didn't, I did notice you wearing my hoodie before." Richie grins, glancing at the desk chair he'd tossed it on to when they got back. It was way too dirty after hugging Eddie to wear anymore. But he has the real Eddie now (maybe), so he can part with it. "I'm dead for less than a day and you rob me? I'm missing at least three shirts, too. Was this all you or did all my friends collectively rifle through a dead man's things?"

"All me," he admits. "And I took four shirts. Two hoodies."

"You didn't want to help yourself to some socks and underwear while you were at it?"

"No, that felt weird," Richie says. "I just wanted shit of yours that I could put on." 

"That's weird," Eddie says, and Richie can hear him zipping up his jeans. "Why?" 

It's funny. After they all got back from the quarry, Richie had cried to Bev about how if he could go back, he'd have told Eddie how he felt. He wouldn't waste the life they have left. He'd do all he could to have the man he loved at his side. 

The universe really called his bluff on that one. 

"Yeah, it is," he agrees and doesn't answer the accompanying question. "Can I turn around now?" 

"I guess," Eddie says, so Richie immediately does. He's still shirtless, and Richie finds himself staring at his lack of a wound again. Eddie notices. "Are you even attempting subtlety anymore?"

He shakes his head. "Really not. I just... can't believe you're here. 

"I noticed by the way you keep calling me a ghost," Eddie says before pulling a shirt over his head. "I'm definitely here though. I don't know how, but I am. So you don't have to be afraid of me poofing away, alright, Rich? I'm right here."

Something about that gets Richie going again, tears blurring his vision. He grits his teeth and tries to stop himself but he can't. 

"Oh hey, no, why are you doing this again?" Eddie asks. His tone is mildly exasperated, which Richie _gets_, he should not be the most upset one here, but it's mostly concerned. He sits down beside him, hand on his shoulder. 

Richie forces out a laugh. Hates to feel like a burden. He always does when he's too vulnerable. "Man, Eds, if you think this is bad, your ghostly little self should have come seen me when you were actually dead. It was a nonstop sob fest."

Eddie's frown deepens. "Rich..."

"Seriously. Almost drowned in my own goddamn tears. It's almost like losing you sucked or something." 

"No, I know... I just... didn't know..." Eddie squeezes his shoulder, presses his side a little closer into Richie's. "It'd been so long since I'd seen you all. I wasn't even sure it'd impact you all that much. Which is stupid now that I think about it, because I'd hate to lose any of you, but - I don't know." 

"Eddie, you have no idea how much losing you hurt," he tells him. 

Eddie smiles a little. "Neither do you. Not technically. I'm still very much alive."

"Okay, don't say 'still,' Eds," Richie lets out a wet laugh. "More like you're alive again. Reborn. 

"Whatever you wanna call it," Eddie laughs. 

"Zombie Eddie."

"Not that." 

* * *

Richie only cries once more that day. He gets them food, they eat, they talk. He's fine. Then he goes downstairs to find that, miraculously, someone does work there, and he books his room for an extra night. They ask him why and he tears up because _Eddie's alive and he's not ready to travel back home today and he feels safe there with Richie and oh god the love of his life is with him again_. He doesn't say that, obviously, just says he's visiting with friends a little longer, but he's wiping his eyes as he goes back upstairs. 

"Should I call my wife?" Eddie asks as they're getting into bed.

Separate beds. Richie's room has two doubles, but he kind of wishes this had ended up as some cute, forced to share a bed situation. 

He crinkles his nose and slips under the covers. "No? Yeah? I don't know. Why?" 

"In case she thinks I'm dead?" Eddie says as if it's obvious. Maybe it kinda is. He was a little dead. _A lot _dead. "Did anyone call her?"

"Oh. No." 

"Wow, thanks, guys," Eddie snorts, rolling onto his side. He reaches out to the lamp on the nightstand and turns off the last light in the room. It's pitch black, but Richie still strains his eyes to try to make out Eddie's figure in the dark. "You don't think she should have known that I was dead?"

"You _should_ be thanking us," Richie says. "How awkward would that follow up call be? 'Okay so we told you your husband passed but he found me on the kissing bridge and apparently crawled out from under a collapsed house and is very much alive! Pranked!' Yeah, that'd go well." 

Eddie is silent, and Richie knows he won that one. When Eddie asks his follow up question though, he kinda wishes he hadn't. "Why _were_ you at the kissing bridge?" 

"Carving your mom's name in a big ass heart," he replies quickly. Lies too easily. "Wanted to memorialize her and our love before I fucked outta here forever." 

"Did it have to do with me?" Eddie asks, not even blinking at the mom joke. 

Richie's glad it's dark so his panic cannot be seen. "Oh my god, the ego on you suddenly," he scoffs. 

"Sorry," he mutters. "You said 'memorialize' and I did kind of die, so."

Now it's Richie's turn to be silent. 

He can hear the universe, which sounds a lot like Bev, telling him this is that second chance he wanted to be honest with Eddie. He doesn't take it, because he can't. He couldn't take it when Eddie was actually dying in his arms, what makes anyone think he can take it now? Now that he's miraculously alive and they have an actual chance at being friends, he's not gonna ruin that. 

Eddie's still married, as he's just been painfully reminded of. He can't make a move on a fucking married man. Even if he does have some thoughts on that marriage based on the snippets he's heard about her, he can't do that to Eddie. Can't put him in that position. 

He'll push his limits like he always did, but he'll never outright say a goddamn word. He may have come out to the other losers, and himself, but that was kind of forced out when he had such a breakdown about losing the man he was in love with. They all knew after that. Actually telling Eddie how he feels, that's a whole other thing. He's not there yet. 

"Rich?" Eddie whispers.

"Hm?"

A beat, then, "Nothing. Goodnight, Richie."

"'Night, Eds."

Richie does not go to sleep. He lays there and listens to Eddie breathe and it comforts him, but not enough to allow him sleep. His nightmares were vivid and fucking horrifying the night before, and he barely even slept. He doesn't want to find out what's in store for him tonight. Happier things, one may think, what with Eddie being not dead, but he knows his ugly brain better than that. 

Also, he's kind of afraid of waking up and Eddie not being there after all. He hopes that fear goes away at some point. He's not sure he'll be able to let him out of his sight otherwise. 

The digital clock on the nightstand tells him an hour has passed since they said their goodnights. Richie is exhausted and wide awake all at once. He can't hear Eddie breathing anymore, even though he can make his figure out in the dark better now that his eyes have adjusted. Blurry without his glasses, but the lump in the bed is still distinguishable. 

It's not enough. 

"Eddie?" he whispers, in the softest tone he's ever managed. He doesn't want to wake him up, but he also kind of does. 

"Yeah?" The immediate response startles him a little. He thought he was fast asleep. 

"Um." He hadn't thought he'd get this far and now he's a little embarrassed about what he actually wants. 

He hears Eddie shuffling a little, then his voice is a lot clearer, like he turned over or sat up or something. "You okay, Richie?" 

"Yeah," he lies. "Um... Can I come lay next to you?"

He braces himself for Eddie to call him weird again, but instead, he hears Eddie moving under his covers in the dark and then, "I was about to ask you the same thing." 

Not the answer he was expecting, but he'll take it happily. He gets out of his bed and crosses over to Eddie's. Reaching out to try and get in, he just gets a handful of Eddie's arm. 

"Ow, don't grab at me," he hisses. "I sleep on the left side, you know this."

Richie scoffs but walks around the bed to the other side anyway. "I did not know that. How the hell would I know that?!" 

Eddie makes a grunting noise but says nothing else as Richie climbs in beside him. As he's bunching the pillow up under his head, scooting as close to the middle of the bed and to Eddie as he can without making it obvious that his goal, Eddie's words fully register with him. 

"You okay?" he asks him, his voice a whisper. In the dark, in the late hour, it feels like anything above a whisper is too loud. 

"Mhm."

"Are you? You said you were about to ask to lay with me." 

"I am now," he says, and Richie's breath catches in his throat. He can_ feel _Eddie's breath on his cheek, that's how close he is. His heart is going fucking insane. "I was just scared." 

He reaches out on instinct to pat his cheek to comfort him. The scar on his cheek is gone, too. His thumb runs over where it was, and then he freezes when he realizes what he's doing. If Eddie's weirded out by it though, he doesn't say anything. 

"Scared of the dark?" Richie asks. He's teasing, a little, but he's not expecting the honest response he gets. 

"Fuck you, man, I was trapped in the dark for a long ass time," he admits. "You'd be scared, too."

He nods. "I would be."

"I don't remember being dead," he explains. "I don't even remember falling asleep, or... dying, I guess. My last memory before is you trying to stop my bleeding, telling me you're gonna get me out of there." He continues before Richie even has the chance to tell him he's sorry for not doing that. Because god is he. More now than ever. "I feel like I should be more fucked up about it? The dying thing? But it was like I just slept for awhile. One second I was with you, then I blinked and everyone was gone. I wasn't even aware I was dead until after. I'm mostly mad that I woke up under Neibolt alone. Always hated that goddamn house. Scared the shit out of me. Now I keep thinking about it, and about big clown spiders."

"We killed the fuck out of that clown spider," Richie tells him. "Avenged you so hard." And then, both to make him feel better and because it's absolutely true, he tells him, "You're like, my hero and shit, you know."

Eddie laughs, a little too loud and it almost makes Richie jump back in surprise. "Fuck you," he says again.

"I'm being so serious, shut the fuck up," Richie laughs. "What the fuck kind of superhero shit was that? You wake up after being presumed dead and climb your way back to civilization all on your own? After dying saving my life, by the way."

"I died because IT got me while I was bragging about killing it," Eddie corrects him. Or tries to. 

Richie doesn't let him go with that for too long. 

"You got me out of the deadlights, idiot," he reminds him. "You saved me." He pats his cheek again, considerably harder than before. "My goddamn hero." 

"Ow," Eddie says, but he's smiling. Richie can hear it. "I was scared shitless though. Not much of a brave hero." 

"Don't make me tell you about how brave you are again," Richie says, but is prepared to do it. "I'll go on all night. And honestly you being scared and doing it anyway just makes you that much braver. I'd have just fucking died down there - twice. Could not have been fucked to find a way out." 

Eddie laughs. "That's bullshit." 

It probably is. No way would Richie just stay down there, but it made Eddie laugh, so he keeps going with it. 

"I swear to god," he tells him. "I couldn't have navigated my way down there on my own if I tried - which I would not have." 

"Shut up." Eddie blindly tries to cover Richie's mouth with his hand, but misses and ends up touching his cheek instead. So he settles for brushing his thumb over his lips, trying to shush him that way. And it fucking works. Richie's melting. He's never been happier that Eddie starts talking again, because he probably couldn't make a coherent sentence right now if he tried. "You're too resilient to die down there. Even if you did give up though, I'd have come to find you. The scars on our hands healing would have made me curious enough to think about your wounds, too."

"Oh?" It's all he can manage when Eddie's still touching his goddamn mouth. He's really lingering there and Richie's not complaining but he also would like the ability to use his brain again. 

"Would have dug you out of there myself." 

Finally, Richie has to just shove his hand away. He needs to tell him how wrong he is. 

"Your scared ass would not have gone back down there no matter whose life depended on it," Richie says. 

Eddie pauses. "I'm trying to be fucking nice, dickhead. Can we not talk in hypotheticals now?"

"Oh so you'd only hypothetically save me? That's really sweet." His tone is sarcastic but honestly? It kind of is sweet. It works for Richie. He's swooning a little. 

"I'd have sent someone else down to find you!" Eddie tells him - and that, that Richie believes. 

"So Bill would be my new hero," he says, because of course it'd be Bill, and Eddie nods. "Well, thanks, Bill." 

Eddie jabs his shoulder with his finger and it doesn't hurt at all but Richie still swats at it, just to grab at his wrist and hold onto it for a moment before it's tugged away. "At least I'd make sure to come after you. I'd have gotten you out of that hellhole."

The mood goes from playful to serious then. Not because of Eddie's words, but because of the way Richie's face falls at them. Because he genuinely feels like shit for leaving him down there. Dead or not, he knew how much Eddie hated that house. He didn't want to leave him there. 

"I'm sorry for not getting you out, Eddie," he tells him, voice in a low whisper once more. 

"I was only kidding, Richie. You thought I was dead - I _was_ dead. You couldn't have known." 

He kind of wants to cry again, but he doesn't want to turn this into Eddie comforting him for the fifth time, so he tries to quickly think of a way to change the subject. He's just settled on a joke about Myra when Eddie speaks up again. 

"Thanks for staying with me, Rich," he says.

"Fucking obviously," Richie breathes out a laugh. "I wasn't gonna just drop you off and then fuck off and leave you alone here. Of course I stayed."

He's already cancelled shows, his Reno dates got rescheduled even though he told his agent he can't promise to make those either. He was taking time off to mourn, to get his head on straight - but now he doesn't need to do that. Well, not the first part. So he may as well spend a little more time in Derry with Eddie. There's honestly really nothing else he'd rather do. 

"I don't mean now," Eddie says, and _oh_. "Now, too, I guess, but... Back at Neibolt. Thanks for not leaving me."

Richie blinks. "I did though, Eds-" 

"That's not what I mean. I know I woke up alone, but what were you gonna do, lay down and die with me?" he asks, and he has no idea how close he was to doing just that. "I mean, you let the others go fight alone until you had no other choice. You never left me. You weren't going to let me die alone." 

He did die alone, and he knows that because Richie told him as he was catching him up earlier on how they crushed IT's heart and all that, but at least he knows Richie hadn't wanted that. He had to be torn from his side. 

"If I had died, for real, no comebacks," Eddie says. "I'd have been okay with that as my last memory. Holding your hand as you comforted me."

Richie has no response to that right away. His brain's kind of short circuiting. "Oh."

"And you know how your life supposedly flashes before your eyes when you're dying?" Eddie continues. "It wasn't quite that dramatic, but I just kept thinking about you. All these new memories were coming back to me. I kept thinking about the summer we spent in the hammock, always tangled up together. You were so fucking annoying."

"Were?"

"You still are, but especially then," Eddie grins. "Would never get the fuck out when it was my turn." 

"Because you always just got in with me and I liked that," he blurts out, admits it before he can overthink it. "You were rewarding bad behavior, that was your fault."

Eddie raises his brows. "You liked it?" 

"Yeah..." Richie says, and fuck he regrets that now. He realizes that admitting something that may have been true when they were kids isn't the most damning thing, but he still feels like he's said too much. "And um, I did try to die with you, just for the record." That's not much better at all. In fact, it's the literal opposite of what he wanted to do, which was backpedal on the admitting too much thing. He doesn't know why this was the new conversation he chose. He blames Eddie touching his mouth. The affects are still lingering. 

"You _what_?" Eddie squeaks, and Richie already knows he can't get out of this one as easily. 

"I didn't want to leave you down there," he tells him, as casually as he possibly can. "They literally had to drag me away." He laughs, because that makes things less serious, right? "I told you it sucked losing you. Did you not believe me?"

"I believed that you'd have missed me, but I didn't think... You tried to_ die_ with me?" 

He sounds really shocked by that and Richie doesn't get why. Like, yeah? Obviously? He was in denial about him even being dead - which looking back, was valid as hell - so obviously he wanted to stay with him. It'd be a dick move leaving an alive man down there alone. 

And who would wanna live in a world without Eddie Kaspbrak in it anyway? Richie experienced that for 27 years and it sucked. He didn't even remember Eddie and it still sucked. The days he spent being harassed by a killer clown _with_ Eddie were way better than all the years he spent living a normal life without him. Not even comparable, really. Could have done without the clown shit, but beggars can't be choosers, whatever. 

"I just love you, I guess," he says, then quickly, "You're my best friend still." 

He's not expecting Eddie's response, which is to press his face into his shoulder and wrap an arm around him. The force of it pushes him onto his back, and he's more than accepting of this embrace. His arm snakes around Eddie's back and holds him tight. This, this is nice. He can feel Eddie breathing in his arms, can feel it's warm against the crook of his neck, he can feel his heart beating against his own chest. He hopes Eddie can't feel how hard his own is racing - but he's sure he can. But he doesn't say anything about it. 

Neither of them say anything at all for awhile, and he thinks Eddie's gone to sleep finally. And Richie thinks he may actually get some rest, too. Flat on his back is not his usual sleeping position, yet he feels more comfortable than he has in ages. His eyes close, but before he can drift off, Eddie's voice is pulling him back to reality. Which is more than okay with him. 

"I wanted to tell you this when I was dying, but I was scared then, too. But I love you, too, Richie." 

He doesn't know why Eddie would be scared to say he loves him, as if all the losers hadn't said it a dozen times back in the day, but he doesn't question it. Just moves his hand up to the back of his head and lets his fingers slide through Eddie's hair. When Eddie starts to lightly snore not ten minutes later, Richie finally allows himself to slip away into sleep as well. 

* * *

Richie wakes up with Eddie's full weight on him, and he can't breathe, and it's the best morning he's ever had. He also wakes up exactly thirty minutes before checkout, so he has to quickly shuffle out of his grasp and out of the bed so he can call downstairs and ask for another night. Shockingly, somehow, Derry doesn't get a ton of tourists, so it's not difficult getting his room for another night. No one else seems to want it.

"Don't you have to go home?" Eddie yawns from behind him as he hangs up the phone, and Richie feels mildly bad because he knows he woke him up. 

He looks half asleep still, but also so much better than he did yesterday. He had really needed that rest. He rubs his eyes and his nose crinkles a little and fuck Richie wants to kiss him. But he doesn't. Obviously. 

"You trying to get rid of me?" He sits at the edge of the bed at Eddie's feet. 

"No, but you have like - a life," Eddie says, pushing the blankets back and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed so him and Richie are sitting side by side. 

Richie reaches out to pat his leg for no reason other than to do it. "It's on hold for the time being," he says. "You have a life, too." 

"I said I'd be gone a week," he tells him with a shrug. "I didn't know how long this would take. Don't wanna go back anyway." 

His brows shoot up at that. This isn't what he thought their early morning chat would be, but alright. Skipping the small talk about breakfast, right to Eddie not wanting to go back to his wife.

Actually, Richie may like this. He pushes for more. 

"Like, at all?" 

Eddie shrugs again, but no, this is something that needs elaboration. 

"Should I get a few more days on this room or what?" he asks, then remembers something, "You were wailing about wanting to go home at one point." 

"That was before!" 

"Before what?"

"Dying puts some shit in perspective, Rich! Like, I think I'm immortal now?!" 

Richie blinks. "That - That's what you're taking from this?"

"No!" Eddie huffs, shooting to his feet. He paces, his arms flailing around as he talks. "I don't know! I just think that life is fucking short and I've spent too much time scared and I wasn't fucking happy before. Maybe you were right, I'm braver than I think, I'm not as weak as I've always thought. I shouldn't be so goddamn afraid." 

"This is a hell of a revelation before we've even had coffee."

"I'm serious, Richie," Eddie stills, standing in front of him. "I don't want to go home."

"Then don't."

This starts him up again. "I can't just_ not_ go home!" 

"Okay, then go." Richie really doesn't know which side to play here. 

"I don't want to now!"

Richie grabs his wrist to stop him from pacing again, guiding him back down next to him with a light tug. Eddie falls next to him without much fight. His arm drapes over his shoulders and it's nice how easily Eddie sinks into his side. Like he just fits. 

"I'm already planning out in my head how you can just run back to California with me and start a new life there, maybe even with a new identity, we'll call you Paulo," he says. "And if you genuinely can't stand the thought of going back there, you don't have to. But I'm probably not the best person to figure that out with. I'm not the logical one."

Plus he has a bias, he admits. Whisking Eddie away from his wife to live in Los Angeles together forever? Sign him up. A dream come true. He doesn't wanna hear other options.

But he knows it's not realistic. 

"Maybe I'll talk to Bev," Eddie mutters. 

Richie's eyes widen. "Oh shit, I still need to tell them about your resurrection."

"You haven't told them?!"

He's scrambling for his laptop tucked away in his bag. "Man, they're gonna feel like such dicks when they see you're alive still," Richie laughs. "I'm gonna be able to yell the loudest 'I told you so' at those fuckers."

* * *

He texts them all to let them know he needs to video call them all, and it only takes ten minutes for everyone to get on. They all have a lot of questions, like why is he still in Derry, why hasn't he replied to any of their texts, is he okay? Then he turns the camera to Eddie and no one gives a shit about Richie anymore. 

Everyone is so shaken up, so confused and happy at the same time, too busy crying to even acknowledge all the times Richie yells 'I told you so!' (Eight times. He says it eight times and they talk right over him.) 

Richie sits back, lets Eddie tell them everything himself. He only interferes when Eddie gets to the part about Richie crying into his shoulder on the bridge, nudging him hard in the side with his toe. "They don't need every goddamn detail." 

"Yes, we do," Ben insists. 

So he continues to give them every detail, going on side rants every five minutes, and Richie tries not to admire him too blatantly. He's bitching about grey water for the millionth time and he's so annoying and so alive and Richie is so in love with him it's pathetic. He's 40 years old, he should not be pining as hard as he is. 

They stay crowded around the laptop together until Eddie tells Bev he wants to talk to her in private, and the group call ends and he takes his phone downstairs. 

"I'll come back," he tells Richie before he even has the chance to protest or go with him. It must be all over his face that he's still afraid he'll poof away. 

It's a long thirty minutes, but Richie can occasionally hear Eddie's voice get louder and it'll drift up the stairs, and it eases him a little. When he comes back into the room, he tosses the phone onto the nightstand and flops onto the bed once more. 

"Surprisingly, Bev wasn't too against the idea of me running away to California with you," Eddie says, and Richie puts an arm in the air. Hell yeah, he knew he loved Bev. Considering the fact she too ran from an unhappy home, he's not as surprised as Eddie is. "But... I'm gonna go back."

Richie deflates. 

"I have a job, and a life, like you said."

"Yeah... Yeah, right."

"But, I just need to put in some requests at work, talk to a divorce lawyer probably, then... I can do whatever I want."

Richie perks back up at that, realizing Eddie's going back, but it's not to stay. He's just going to tie up any loose ends. He knows that doesn't mean he's going to actually move across the country to live with his best friend who he only just remembered a coupe days ago, but it's still good. He wants that for Eddie. More than any selfish need of his own, he needs Eddie to live the life he deserves. 

"Good," Richie says, and he means it. "Good, Eds. Get the hell outta there. I'm sure your mom - I mean, Myra, your wife who is not your mom, will be heartbroken. How could she not be? But she'll-"

"I don't want to talk about her," Eddie cuts him off. Richie stops talking, but Eddie puts a thumb to his lips as if he needed to shut him up still. It's just the way he did the night before, fingers splayed over his cheek, and he kind of wonders now if that actually was an accident last night or if he'd meant to brush over his lips like this. He can't say he cares either way. "I'm ready to get to the after." 

Richie nods. So is he. He doesn't even know what the _after_ means exactly but Eddie is staring at his mouth and he thinks he likes wherever this is going. 

Eddie's hand falls from his face and. Oh. It goes nowhere, so never mind on that. 

He stands up and Richie lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "I'm going to take another shower," he says, already on his way to the bathroom. Richie falls back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to decide how much of Eddie looking at his lips had been real and how much of it was him imagining things. 

If a 'moment' of any kind _had_ been happening, the mood has come and gone by the time Eddie gets out of the shower, going on about changing his flight and getting this over with and asking Richie if he wants tacos. 

He does. 

* * *

They don't start out sharing a bed that night, but Richie dozes off on his own anyway. He wakes up sometime after three and feels Eddie pressed to his back, and goes back to sleep easily. 

The sun is up the next time he wakes up, an alarm going off. Eddie's not next to him anymore but he can hear him moving around the room, and then the alarm going off. Richie doesn't even open his eyes before muttering, "Lay back down. Too early." 

"My flight, Rich," he whispers. 

Richie grunts. He forgot about that. He hates that Eddie moved his flight up, but he kind of gets it, too. He wants to get it over with. That part he can encourage. He rolls over to the edge of the bed so he can grab his glasses without getting up. Sliding them on, he can see the time on the clock and he groans. "I thought we had to be up at eight. It's only seven." 

"I want to go somewhere first."

"Oh my god. If I were dead for any amount of time, I'd take advantage of that shit for as long as possible. My ass wouldn't leave my house for ages as I recuperate." 

"I don't need to recuperate, I feel fine," Eddie tells him, grabbing the pillow from under his head and smacking him with it. "Come the fuck on."

Richie uses his arms to block the pillow. "Stop that, I'm half awake, this isn't fair." He manages to grab the pillow and tug it from Eddie's grasp, but he's run out of dodge by the time Richie throws it. Misses completely. Eddie laughs from the bathroom doorway. Richie gives him the middle finger and doesn't see if he does the same because he's closing his eyes again. 

"Get up!" Eddie shouts. "Go shower. And brush your teeth." 

Richie scrunches up his face. "Why would you need to tell me that? I know." 

"Just do it and come on." 

He groans, but does it anyway. 

* * *

They get coffee and croissants and then Eddie tells him to let him to drive, because he needs to take him somewhere. Richie is hesitant, considering Eddie crashed his car when he talked to Mike less than a week ago, but he's never been good at saying no to him, so he tosses him the keys. 

He's mostly sure this is really Eddie, not a ghost or hallucination, but he's still suspicious about this. What if they didn't actually kill IT and he just took over Eddie's body? His eyes widen a little at that thought, because that's actually super possible. 

Is it?

He doesn't know. He has no idea how anything works, but it'd be the least shocking thing that's happened lately. 

If this has been Pennywise he's been pining over the last couple days, he's gonna be pissed. Eddie must notice the way he's staring at him because he turns and glares at him. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asks. 

"So much," he tells him, because honestly? There is. 

"Okay well quit," Eddie mutters. "It's distracting." 

He looks away for a moment but his eyes end up back on him again, but Eddie doesn't say anything this time. It's only a few more minutes of a drive, and then Richie starts to piece together where their destination is, because he took this exact route just days before. He says nothing until Eddie actually parks the car at the kissing bridge. 

"Are we here because this is where you first appeared as a ghost?" Richie asks. "Are you about to tell me you took care of whatever unfinished business you had and now you're going into the afterlife finally?" 

"No!" Eddie yells as he gets out of the car. Richie follows him. "Call me a ghost again and I'm pushing you off the bridge." 

"So we can be dead together? How sweet." 

"Shut up and let me show you this."

Eddie leads him right to the R+E and his heart is fucking pounding out of his chest. He says nothing, and holds his breath. He had been shocked Eddie hadn't noticed it that first day, Richie had been standing right in front of it, but he guesses Eddie had a lot of other stuff on his mind. He wasn't paying attention to what was on the bridge around them.

But maybe he had been. Maybe he's here to confront him about it. He doesn't know why he'd do that, but he doesn't have any other explanations for this pit stop. 

"Um, I don't know how to say it..." he starts. "I mean, I did say it, but I don't think you-" He huffs, then points. "I'll just show you." 

He's pointing, not at the R+E, but below it, to a heart with a P in it. 

Richie has no idea why he's being shown this. 

"Why are you showing me a heart with a P in it?" he asks, more confused than before. 

Eddie looks at him like he's offended him deeply. "It's an R."

Richie squints. "That's a P, dude."

"You blind piece of shit, it's an R!"

"How the fuck do you know?"

"Because I'm the one that carved it, asshole!"

Well that shuts Richie up.

As he stands in shock, Eddie digs a key out from his pocket and kneels down, carefully touching it up just like Richie had done just a couple days prior to his own work. He makes a show of adding that extra line that makes the difference between a 'P' and an 'R' and Richie almost wants to roll his eyes but it's hard to be anything but endeared right now because_ is this Eddie confessing something to him_?

"You carved my initial into the kissing bridge?" he asks, just for clarification. 

"When I was 13," he nods, standing up again and not meeting Richie's eyes. "I was too scared to add the T, because I thought that'd give it away somehow, but yeah." 

"So you... You liked me... Or?" He knows that's the only reason someone would carve someone else's initial into the bridge, so he feels dumb asking, but he also kind of needs it all spelled out for him right now. 

"I guess, but you don't have to make a big deal out of it," he says, as if he isn't the one who dramatically presented it to him just now. "I saw that one day," he points to the R+E and Richie's eyes go wide. If 13 year old him had known Eddie had seen that, he'd have panicked about it for a month. "And I knew it wasn't Richie plus Eddie, but I thought about it for fucking days anyway. I finally came back and just put your initial up here myself."

Richie stares at him for a second before telling him, "Eds, I did that. The R plus E, that was me." 

"Shut up, it wasn't."

"Dumbass, why do you think I was here when you found me? Look how new that carving looks. I was redoing it." 

It's Eddie's turn to be silent. When he finally does speak up, he asks, "The E is me?" 

"Who else would it be?" 

"I don't know. Elizabeth."

"I have no idea who the fuck that is."

"Me neither but it's a common girl name, I'm sure we went to school with one." 

Richie laughs, because he has to, because they're both such dumbasses. Eddie glares up at him because he thinks he's being laughed at, which he is, and he looks so cute and Richie feels so happy he may float away. 

"What the fuck are you laughing at? I'm trying to tell you I love you and you're being a dick about- Ow!" 

Eddie's cut off when Richie pushes him back against the bridge. Not even hard, he's being dramatic for no reason, but it sure shuts him up when Richie takes his face in his hands. 

He's looking up at him with those big eyes and Richie almost forgets what he was going to say because he can't stop staring into them. 

"In case you weren't paying attention, I was telling you I loved you, too," he says, and kisses him hard, pressing him tighter against the wooden railing. 

"Oh, Richie, I'm gonna get splinters," Eddie sighs against his lips, but he still drags him back down to kiss him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> and then eddie went and got divorced then moved in with richie and they lived happily ever after!!!!
> 
> find me on tumblr @ haderenthusiast, pls, i need people to cry and yell with.


End file.
